Atlantium Trilogy I: Bride of Atlantis (9 page)

He sought her mouth again as he moved
over her. She kissed him back fervently, parted her legs, tilting
her hips to receive him. She felt the head of his member nudging,
seeking. She shifted, felt the head of his shaft probing her
wetness. Slowly, he parted her flesh, entering her. She lifted up
to meet him, felt the resistance of her flesh as it adjusted to his
unaccustomed breadth, felt him slide deep, deep.

She wanted it all.

She wasn’t certain she could take it
all.

He went still for a moment when he had
fully seated himself, changed positions, supporting his upper body
with his arms.

She clutched at the straining muscles
of his arms, wanting his weight fully against her, opening her eyes
a fraction when he did nothing more.

Thor was looking directly at her, his
dark blue eyes almost sapphire with desire.

As their gazes locked, need rushed
through her, sending a flood of hot, slippery juices through her
sex. Her muscles contracted around him inside of her.

A muscle worked in his jaw. Slowly,
still holding her gaze, he began to pull away.

Alexis slid her hands from his arms to
his sides, downward until she was clutching his hips. She tugged,
urging him forward once more.

He clenched his teeth, pushing slowly
into her again. When he was fully inside her, he ground his hips
against her, the rough hairs of his lower belly teasing her
clit.

Alexis gasped, feeling her body
building toward climax as he moved, ever so slowly, in and out,
grinding against her each time he was fully inside of
her.

She closed her eyes, savoring the
building pleasure as he continued to stroke her, slowly, building a
fire inside her loins.

She lifted her legs, wrapping them
around Thor’s waist so that she could control the angle of his
thrust, feel him where she needed to feel him.

It brought her to the edge.

She held her breath, trying to prolong
the pleasure as long as possible, barely moving,
waiting.

Her climax assaulted her, caught her
so completely off guard that she cried out.

At her cry, he groaned as if in agony,
sinking deeply inside her, quickly now, plunging deep and hard,
faster and faster. Each thrust sent another spasm of pleasure
through her, building upon the climax she’d only just experienced
until she felt herself climbing toward yet another, higher, peak.
When at last he cried out in ultimate pleasure, Alexis climaxed
with him, harder than before. She bit down on his shoulder to
prevent herself from screaming as, spent, he collapsed against her,
gasping, murmuring something to her in a foreign tongue that she
couldn’t understand.

Alexis barely heard him. Her body was
wracked with pleasure so acute she almost blacked out. Sated, she
welcomed his weight as he melted bonelessly against her.

She felt wonderfully
depleted.

Finally, he rolled to his side, caught
his breath and pulled her snugly against him.

Alexis was too weak even to
protest.

* * * *

When Alexis woke, the gray of early
morning had begun to filter into the room. Two logs lay across her,
one on her chest, the other across her hips. The logs resolved
themselves into Thor’s massive arm and leg.

With an effort, she tossed them off
and rolled to the opposite side of the bed.

She sat there a moment, her face in
her hands as the cobwebs of sleep crept slowly away, leaving total
consciousness in their place.

Thor snored.

Relief flooded her.

If he was asleep, it was surely safe
to allow herself the luxury of thought—and deep regret.

What had possessed her to allow—no
urge—Thor to have sex with her? She barely knew him. She wasn’t
altogether certain she even liked him.

She was not ‘in’ to casual sex, never
had been.

Casual sex might work for some, and
she wasn’t one to judge, but the hard fact was she simply could not
enjoy sex unless she was emotionally involved.

She had known the moment he touched
her, sleep or not, that it was definitely not Eric. She couldn’t
use the excuse, even to herself, that she had been groggy with
sleep and had reacted in the belief that it was her husband—or even
a boyfriend.

She had known the moment he kissed her
that it could be no one but Thor.

And she hadn’t cared. She had wanted
him to do just what he’d done. She had thoroughly enjoyed what he’d
done, participated, encouraged—it made her hot all over again even
thinking about it.

The ramifications of her self-analysis
suddenly dawned upon her, freezing her to the spot.

She glanced at the man sleeping in her
bed. Her heart performed a funny little flip flop that had little
to do with the fact that she thought of him as a hot bod and
fabulous sex toy.

Dismay filled her. She simply could
not allow herself to become emotionally involved with him … with
anyone from this place. She didn’t belong here. She couldn’t stay.
Even considering a brief affair purely for enjoyment was begging
for trouble.

She calmed herself. It was the
circumstances, she told herself. She’d been thrown together with a
man few women could’ve turned down and lived with themselves
afterward. She had merely succumbed to her animal instincts. There
was always a first time for everything and last night had been her
first completely casual and emotionally uninvolved sexual
encounter.

That was her story, and she was
sticking to it.

Resolutely, she shook it off. She
couldn’t afford the luxury of further self-examination anyway. He
was liable to wake at any moment and she still hadn’t decided how
to behave after the way she’d already behaved.

She stood up as she heard him
stirring, firmly closing her mind to thoughts. Focusing on finding
something to cover herself with, she moved to the armoire where
Moira had found the gown.

There was little, she saw, to choose
from, most of it as sheer as the gown she’d worn, that she had
thought was for sleeping, that Thor had ripped off of her. Holding
the pieces up now, she had to wonder.

She finally decided on something that
looked vaguely like a skirt. In actuality, it was little more than
a piece of sheer cloth, held together at the waist by strings about
the breadth of apron strings. The top was almost as bad, just as
sheer, and only covered her breasts, leaving her belly and back
bare except for the strings she used to tie it on.

When she turned she saw that Thor was
lying on his side, watching her, his head supported by his bent arm
and hand, his expression unreadable.

Alexis said the first thing that came
to mind. “It was thoughtful of Adonis to leave these here.” Her
tone was wry. The clothing was almost more indecent than she
would’ve looked naked, paying mere lip service to the concept of
clothing.

A look of annoyance crossed Thor’s
features. “I had Moira find some clothing for you.”

Surprised, Alexis lifted her brows. “I
would’ve thought, this being Adonis’ home, that it would’ve been
him.”

“
This is not the home of
Adonis. It is my home.”

Alexis gaped at him stunned, confused.
“But I thought … YOU! You brought me here! Helen said I was to stay
at Adonis’ home.”

Thor swung his legs over the side of
the bed and stood up.

He was gloriously naked.

Alexis’ mind went perfectly
blank.

“
I am the guardian. You were
released to me.”

Something flickered in her mind,
almost like a touch.

Alexis recognized it this time,
however, knew he was trying to probe her mind. She stared at him,
wanting, badly, to release her pent-up feelings about her
situation, but it was impossible to keep her thoughts at bay and
allow emotion to enter.

“
You are guarding your
thoughts from me. Why?”

Despite her best efforts, a smile of
triumph curled Alexis’ lips. “Because I want privacy?” she said
sweetly.

He frowned.

Alexis turned to look around the room,
realizing that she should have guessed from the first that she, a
prisoner, would be given a jailer if not confined to a prison. They
probably didn’t have a real jail or she would’ve found herself in a
cell.

Thor grasped her arm, forcing her to
turn to look at him. To her relief, he’d resumed the facade of
clothing, the loincloth he generally ‘wore’.

“
I am your protector, not
your jailer. You may come and go as you please.”

“
But I have to stay here,
right?”

“
Until the issue is
settled.”

Alexis nodded. She’d thought as
much.

Thor lifted a hand, caressing her
cheek. “This displeases you so much?”

Alexis ignored the caress with an
effort, shrugged. “Being in Atlantis displeases me. I don’t suppose
it really matters where I stay. Here is as good a place as
any.”

Something, some emotion Alexis
couldn’t quite decipher, flitted across Thor’s features. In the
next instant, his expression was impassive. “And, what happened
before—That was as good as any?”

Alexis knew exactly what he was
asking, but that didn’t stop her from giving him a look of complete
incomprehension.

He glanced toward the bed.

Alexis glanced toward the bed,
assuming puzzlement. She knew she had to respond, however. The
problem was she had not had the chance to come to terms with it
herself and since she couldn’t decide how she felt about it, she
wasn’t sharing her confusion. “Oh, that!” she exclaimed, as if
suddenly enlightened. “Thanks! No, it was great sex. Really!
Nothing like sex to relieve tension, huh? I can’t tell you how much
better I feel now, relaxed, rested … I am hungry,
though.”

Thor’s lips tightened. After a moment,
however, he seemed to dismiss it. “Come. Moira will have laid out a
meal.”

Alexis preceded him from the room and
down the stairs. She could almost feel his anger bouncing off her
in waves as he followed her silently.

Chapter Six

Thor left directly after they’d eaten.
Alexis supposed he had business to attend to, but she had a hard
time envisioning it.

She spent a good bit of the day
pacing. She wasn’t accustomed to having nothing at all to do.
Television would have been welcome. She could have stared at it
mindlessly for hours. Unfortunately, that didn’t appear to be a
modern marvel Atlanteans were terribly interested in. She supposed,
considering their location, that it was just as well they weren’t.
She couldn’t imagine the reception would be very good
here.

She found books, and was actually
excited for about two seconds, until she discovered they were
written in a language she couldn’t begin to decipher.

The alphabet didn’t even look
familiar.

There were other books in other
languages, but she was no linguist. She couldn’t say more than a
few words in French and Spanish combined, and she couldn’t read
either one of them. The only books she found in English was the
translation of Alexandre Dumas’ THE THREE MUSKETEERS and a book of
mathematics.

She’d already read the classic three
times and she had no use for the mathematics.

She’d discovered—small wonder—that
there had been a communication glitch between her and Moira. She
was not supposed to appear before the council again for almost a
week.

So she had a week to figure out how to
get out of Atlantis.

Easier said than done.

For one thing, Moira was in the house
even if Thor wasn’t. Moira might not be much for vocalizing, but
that didn’t mean she’d have any trouble at all with
telepathy.

If she left the house to think, then
anyone nearby might ‘hear’ her plans. She had no way of knowing
what sort of distance limitations telepathy might have.

Finally, just after lunch, Moira left
with a basket that suggested she might be heading to the
market.

Alexis sat down to plot a
strategy.

Probably the simplest thing to try, if
not the easiest, was to see if she could steal a boat, or possibly
beg a ride on one. There were several problems that immediately
presented themselves regarding the last. For all she knew there
wasn’t a soul in Atlantis who couldn’t instantly identify her. Then
there was the minor little problem that she was not telepathic, and
therefore could not communicate. The minute she had to open her
mouth, even if they didn’t recognize her, they’d know she wasn’t
from Atlantis.

She wondered if there was such a thing
as a mute around here. Somehow, she doubted it.

As for stealing a boat, or even trying
to get a ride in one, unless Aurora had lied to her, the boat
probably wouldn’t do her any good.

Getting her hands on a boat, however,
was the only way she could think of to test Aurora’s
veracity.